Blame It on the Mistletoe (7 page)

Alex told himself that he wasn’t trying to prove himself to anyone every time he earned another bar on his uniform. First Basic, Airborne, RASP, and finally Ranger School. But he knew deep inside that all of it was just him giving good ol’ Grandpa the finger. At some point he’d gotten it all out of his system—he thought—and stopped carrying about what John Coleman thought. But as he stepped into the dead man’s office, he wasn’t so sure what he felt.

The carpet was ivory and lush. Three walls were wood paneled in a deep stained mahogany; the fourth wall, behind his desk, was a full bookcase crowded with family photos, various mementos, and books. Alex forced himself not to scan the frames looking for himself. He would only be disappointed. No, not disappointed—proven right. The man had no feeling for him whatsoever. Never did.

Alex turned to find Ted Orsman standing up from a navy wingback chair. His grandmother spoke quietly from beside him. “Shall I bring in some coffee?”

“Beverly, that would be lovely, thank you.” Ted gave Alex a firm handshake. “Alex, good to see you, m’boy. Time has treated you well. Wish I could say the same for myself.” He patted his gut.

Alex hadn’t seen Ted since high school. His son was a few years older than Alex. Not the case with the man’s daughter though—she’d been a year younger, and they’d ended up hot and heavy one night in the back seat of his car after a football game. Alex assumed he was the only one in the room who knew about that. He hoped so anyway. Ted had to be in his late fifties, his hair thinning and grayed, his stomach a little on the portly side. But overall he looked like his money made up for where Mother Nature had shortchanged him. His suit was designer and his shoes Italian for sure. Alex started to feel a little uneasy.

“Sit down, son. Might as well cut right to the chase.”

Alex hesitantly took a seat in the matching wingback and crossed one leg over the other. The man had him at a disadvantage because while he’d worn slacks and a button-up shirt, he felt like a piece of shit next to this guy sitting in this lavish house. “You had said this should be worth my while and, I’ll be honest, I’m a little unsure of what that could be mean.”

Ted grinned, hiked up his pants, and took a seat. Beverly returned carrying a tray with two mugs of coffee and all the accessories. Alex stood up. “Grandma, you should’ve let me help you.” He took the tray and set it on the coffee table. No one helped themselves to the offering.

When she was settled in a chair, Ted went on. “Well, here is the short version, Alex. John has left you One Hundred Main.”

Alex was silent. His eyes never left Ted, though he didn’t make eye contact. Instead, he homed in on Ted’s ridiculously expensive tie. His pulse picked up in his ears, and suddenly he felt lightheaded.

“I’m sorry, One Hundred Main? To me? Is this a joke, is it to be condemned, does it have multiple mortgages taken out on it?” Alex laughed awkwardly, then swallowed hard. “Are you kidding me?”

John Coleman had loved 100 Main. It was symbolic of this town, of his livelihood, of him. It had housed his business, his campaign headquarters each time he ran for mayor, even the town’s Santa in its front window the week before Christmas. He remembered seeing the line wrap around the building, but he’d never gone himself.

There was no way in hell John Coleman would give his pride and joy to the boy he was so ashamed of.

“I’m definitely not kidding,” Ted said.

“What’s the long version?” Alex asked.

Ted chuckled. “Actually there is no long version. It’s plain as day in his will, and he told me himself, matter of fact.”

“When?”

“Eight years ago.” Not too long after he’d become a Ranger, Alex realized. Was that it? He’d finally proven himself to the old man?

“No, no way. I don’t fucking believe this. Shit—I’m sorry, Grandma. Crap—” Alex stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He glanced at his grandmother who was silently weeping in her upholstered floral chair.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Alex? I was so happy when Ted told me. I knew John loved you. He just didn’t know how to tell you. He was too proud.”

Alex blew out a breath and walked over to the window. Was his grandmother serious? “Too proud” to be a decent human being?

“Beverly, would you mind giving us a few moments? This has to be overwhelming.” Ted spoke in a low soothing voice, and Alex heard his grandmother leave the room.

“Overwhelming” was an understatement, and Alex felt like telling Ted where he could put his news but clenched his teeth. He didn’t know how to feel, how to even begin to process what he was hearing. What the hell had he expected? He’d tried not to think about what today’s meeting was about. But this, he’d never expected this. Ever. It was so grand an offering, it was almost insulting, knowing how the man had felt about him. There had to be a catch.

“Alex, this is no joke.” Ted was standing beside him now, facing the window leading to the sprawling backyard. “One Hundred Main is completely paid for. In fact, I think you’ll like to hear what I have to say next. Not long after John passed, I was contacted by Evandale Partners Development. It turns out they’ve been trying to entice John to sell the lot for years. Want to put build some fancy medical offices or something of the sort. He resisted, but seeing as you don’t live here and have no emotional attachment to the property, I recently told them you may be interested.”

Alex didn’t move, but he could feel his jaw tightening. No emotional attachment, huh? He’d only spent his whole childhood driving by his grandfather’s office on his bike wondering if he’d ever be welcome, ever even be noticed. One Hundred Main was a landmark in Preston, everyone had some attachment to it. “Go on.”

“They’re prepared to offer you nine hundred thousand dollars immediately, but I think they’ll go higher because they really want this location. I bet we could get nearly two million if we played it right.”

Alex turned and stared Ted down. “We?”

Ted cocked his head to the side and stepped back. “I have been known to dabble in real estate. I’m licensed—it’s not unusual for an attorney. I’d get you a good offer for three percent.”

“And if I don’t want to sell it?” he asked.

“Alex, come on.” Ted smiled. It was unsettling. “What the hell are you gonna do with a hundred-year-old building? Between you and me, I don’t know why John loved it so much. It’s old, crumbling. It’s probably a money pit. Maybe you were right, he wanted to annoy you. It’s certainly in need of tons of repair. He probably wanted to bog you down with the rigmarole of maintaining an old structure. This will free you of all that.”

Alex took that in but didn’t address the man’s obvious change in tactics. Even though he’d had the same thought himself, it pissed him off to hear someone else voice it. His mind finally settled on his most obvious concern.

“What about Brooke?”

“Ms. Abbott can sell her earrings anywhere,” Ted said with smirk. “You can terminate her lease at any time. You just have to give her thirty days’ notice.”

The thought made Alex a little sick to his stomach. He couldn’t imagine facing Brooke again just to give her that kind of news. But damn, the thought of never again having to spend five months at sea was so tempting he could taste it. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, unable to process what was happening. None of this was what he’d expected.

“Alex, I know you aren’t rolling in dough. You’ll never get an opportunity to make this kind of money again.”

Well, wasn’t that sweet. Nothing like a friendly reminder that you weren’t made of money. Alex was by no means hurting for cash either; he’d done pretty well for himself. He sent his mother money, and he had a roommate by choice. He had saved a decent amount, and his checking account was nicely padded because he worked damn hard for his money the past ten years and hardly ever spent it. But this asshole was right, he’d never be rich. Did he need to be a millionaire? Hell no, but shit.

Alex swiped a hand down his face and pulled his thoughts into focus. “When do you need to know?”

“They want an answer before Christmas, but the sooner the better.”

Alex nodded. “I need some time to think, Ted. This is … a lot to take in.”

“I understand, but you and I both know you’d be crazy not to take make a deal with them. Anyway, I need you to sign some paperwork before you go, just saying that you’ve been informed of your inheritance.” Ted handed Alex the papers and a pen. He read them over carefully, making sure it matched exactly what Ted had said. It appeared to, and just seeing his name on the official paper, spelling out that he had in fact inherited the property was bizarre. He finally signed his name, and Ted stuffed the papers into his briefcase. “Oh yes, one more thing. I was also to give you this, just some paperwork in regards to the property you should probably hang on to and a few extra keys.”

Alex took the items but didn’t say another word while Ted put on his expensive wool coat. The man made Alex uncomfortable, which was a rare occurrence for him. He was used to feeling sure of himself in any situation, but right now he felt like he was out of his depth and it made him angry.

After they exited the office and Ted had said good-bye to Beverly, Alex followed his grandmother into the warm, cozy kitchen he’d spent so many Tuesdays as a child and collapsed into the high-backed wooden chair at the breakfast table. Funny enough, this was another Tuesday. Apparently the old adage “The more things change the more they stay the same” rang true.

He allowed her to feed him some muffins and finally drank a cup of coffee. She asked him about his fishing job, and they chatted about the town. None of it succeeded in taking his mind off all the thoughts swirling through his head. He was so disoriented, Beverly managed to convince him to join her for dinner the following Friday, which was ridiculous because an hour ago his plan was to head back home today. But before he could stop himself he had agreed.

And apparently he wasn’t finished doing stupid things, because after he left his grandmother’s house he found himself driving right to 100 Main, intent on talking to the one person he promised he’d stay away from.

**

Brooke glanced over her calendar for the week and grinned. She had officially booked another ornament class full. She couldn’t believe it, but she was thrilled. And hopeful. The future was suddenly full of promise and possibility. The boost in sales had her mind flooding with ideas for projects, marketing strategies, even new product lists. It was amazing how stress squelched your creative spirit, but that’s exactly what the worry and sleepless nights had done. Right now, though, she was on cloud nine.

The shop smelled like Christmas and looked beautifully festive stuffed to the brim with products while Nat King Cole crooned over the speakers about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. It wasn’t quite noon, and she’d already had four hundred dollars in sales. On a Tuesday. The day couldn’t get any better as far as Brooke was concerned.

The front door creaked open, the bell she’d just installed sounding with a cheery jingle, and Brooke welcomed the cool breeze that followed. She was sweaty from moving furniture to showcase some things that one of her favorite crafters had dropped off yesterday afternoon.

“Good morning,” she called out automatically, finishing up her calendar and turning around. “Can I hel—” her voice caught in her throat. The man standing in front of her counter had a sheepish grin on his face. So much for her perfect day.

“That was a warm greeting, but now … you don’t look so excited to see me.”

“Really? I can’t imagine why not.” She took a deep breath and decided things were going too well for her right now to let this jerk rattle her. It had been five days since he’d stood her up. She’s assumed he was long gone, back to wherever the hell he came from. She was over it; time to be a big girl. “How can I help you?”

“So that’s how it is, huh? Okay, can’t say I blame you.” He said with a raised eyebrow. He picked up a necklace from the wrought-iron stand on the counter. “You design everything in here?”

“Of course not. I sell on consignment for small production artists and local crafters. But I make the line of jewelry scattered around on these stands.”

“I’m impressed.” He gently hooked the necklace back on its peg. “What’s the name mean?” He nodded to the wall behind her.

One of her consigners had made a large Sweet Opal Studio sign out of old galvanized tin spray-painted and distressed in a red barn color. It was surrounded by various vintage mirrors. She loved how it turned out and made it the centerpiece of her store right there behind the counter above her own personal design space.

“I named the shop after my grandmother, Opal Abbott. It was initially just the name of my jewelry line, but I decided to use it as the shop’s name too.” Brooke shrugged and fiddled with the necklace around her neck. “She was a very talented seamstress, the most amazing grandmother, and I inherited her collection of fabrics, some from as far back as the forties and fifties. I use them to make most of my jewelry. And I know you’re not really interested in this, so why the hell are you here, Alex?”

“You’re wrong. I am interested in
you
. Very interested. Plus, it seems like we have something in common.”

“You have a strange way of showing someone you’re interested. And the only thing we have in common is that we both know you’re a jerk, so please go.”

“You’re right, I am a jerk. I shouldn’t have stood you up. I did call and let you know, if you remember.”

“Oh my god, seriously? You called an hour late.”

“Okay, damn.” He winced and scratched at his jaw, which was still covered with hair.

He looked like a surly Paul Bunyan, Brooke couldn’t help but think. A sexy one, darn him. “You’re right, I’m an asshole, and I regret it, okay?”

Two women entered the shop, and Brooke went around the counter to greet them. If Alex was smart, he’d take this opportunity to scram. He didn’t. He lingered, walking slowly around the store; his eyes seemed to touch everything. And Brooke couldn’t help but notice that her two customers seemed as interested in him as they were the items for sale.